


And Let the Morning Come

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a world with Ardyn Izunia is an ordinary asshole politician instead of world-threatening scourge, Noctis must learn to balance a new marriage with an old friendship.





	1. Noctis

**Author's Note:**

> I read a prompt for a story about Noct imagining Luna/Prompto, and somehow it turned into this silly thing. 
> 
> I regret nothing.

Prompto dropped off the face of Lucis after the wedding.

Noctis didn’t think anything of it, at first. He and Luna had been busy learning each other again, and discovering some new things about one another for, uh, the first time, and there hadn’t been much room for anything in his thoughts other than the way she bit her lip when she was nervous and the drape of white cloth across her thighs. Prompto’s chatter would have been all wrong for those slow and gentle days by the seaside. And Prompto had enough of a brain not to bug Noctis on his honeymoon. 

But good things came to an end. Noctis and Luna had to return to Insomnia to set up their new household, and in the bustle and noise of the city, Noctis started to hear the absence of his best friend’s voice. 

Noctis glared down at his phone like it had committed a capital offence. 

“You gonna text him?” Gladio loomed by Noctis’ shoulder, unimpressed. Their car was two thirds of the way towards the city works department by now. Not much time for texting left. 

Noctis shoved the phone back into his suit pocket, feeling spiteful. He knew that it was petty and stupid, but Prompto had always been the one to reach out first in their relationship, the one to open up, and Noctis resented the sudden change. 

“Nothing stopping him from coming by the palace.” 

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Gladio’s frown deepened into his this-hurts-me-more-than-it-hurts-you face. Noctis hated that face. It meant he had to clench his jaw and prepare for a punch to the gut. 

Aaaand… here it came. 

“He doesn’t belong with you,” Gladio said. 

“Excuse me!?” 

“That’s not how I meant it, and you know it,” Gladio continued. “Look, Iggy and I are your retainers. We fit into your schedule. But Prompto… you’re out of school, and he can’t skulk around your apartment like he used to. What’s he gonna come by for? And when?”

Noctis sank back into his seat and felt outrage drain out of him. 

“Shit.”

“You never thought it through,” Gladio agreed. 

“Shut up, Gladio.”

It was true, though. Prompto time had been the absolute last thing on Noctis’ mind during the whirlwind of preparation for his wedding. He could still barely believe that he’d made it through that madness with the pride of his ancestors intact and a beautiful woman at his side. 

Which was probably why Gladio ignored him. 

“Could always track him down,” Gladio offered. “Wrangle him into a boy’s night.” 

Noctis took the suggestion seriously. Weighed it all the rest of the way to the facility. But by the time the driver stopped the car and moved to let them out, he was forced to discard it. At least for the time being. 

“Luna is leaving for a tour of Duscae next week, I should be with her while she’s in the city. And if I don’t work out that stupid aqueduct proposal for Dad it’ll be weeks of trouble with the counsel.“

Noctis must have looked half as shitty as he felt, because Gladio’s expression gentled. 

“I know.” He herded Noctis out of the car. “Now let’s get this show on the road.” 

****

Nine days passed before Luna was packed off with four deadly bodyguards, the best motorcade money could buy, and all of Noctis’ worry. 

It felt like madness to part with her for an entire month. They’re only just come together, and their new apartments were too quiet without the dogs padding around. It wasn’t like being in his old bachelor pad. Noctis didn’t know how to live in this space without Luna there. 

He picked his phone up off the side table. 

Swiped it on.

Loaded up King’s Knight. 

Closed King’s Knight. 

Turned the TV to the 24-hour news feed. Watched his wife (his wife!!) wave from the window of a darkened vehicle. 

Luna wouldn’t care if he had Prompto over to watch a movie while she was away. She probably wouldn’t even have cared if Prompto came over while she was around. She seemed fascinated by the fact that he had a friend at all, and also weirdly proud of it, lapping up his least embarrassing stories about high school life in the crown city. 

No, Noctis couldn’t blame any of his hesitancy on Luna. 

The real problem was that he couldn’t figure out a way to invite Promto to hang out for the month without sounding like a douchebag. Yeah, buddy, sorry about your self-esteem problems, but now having you around as replacement company would be convenient, so come on down!! Class like this is how you know a real Lucian prince. 

Uuuuuuugh. 

Well, Noctis would just have to bite the bullet and spend the month reconnecting with his best friend. Better than sitting alone in the dark like an asshole while Ignis and Gladio held little war councils about Handling Noctis' Problems. It would be good. It would be great! They had so much to talk about. Noctis needed to know whether Prompto was working, and feeling himself properly, and still making an idiot of himself over that mechanic. He needed it more than he'd let himself acknowledge. 

Noctis swiped his phone back on, and brought Prompto up in his contacts, when a flash of gold caught his eye and his head snapped up to watch the TV again. 

There was Luna, wearing her beautiful new black jacket, and in the background was Prompto, wearing a press badge that marked him as part of the entourage that would follow the Oracle around Lucis. 

Noctis threw his hands up, phone forgotten. 

“Oh, what the fuck!”


	2. Prompto

Camping out at the edge of the haven wasn’t too bad. 

Like, it was _kind of_ bad? The press tents were close enough to haven central that nobody had to worry about being attacked by daemons overnight, but not so close as to be free of freaky nature smells and mystery noises. And of course none of them were getting anywhere near the giant yurt thing that Lady Lunafreya’s guards were clustered around, so. There wouldn’t be much room for a lowly photographer to wander around after dusk. 

It made Prompto restless. Twitchy, if he was honest with himself. He didn’t do well with being boxed in. 

But there were upsides, too. There’d be stars in the sky at night. A view that didn’t include Crownsguard vans. Sights and sounds that had no memories of Noctis attached to them, or worse, nightmares of the time before Prompto had known him.

If only he weren’t being watched.

“Come on, buddy, don’t you have places to be? An important guy like you must have lots of stuff to get done before we settle in for the night.”

Prompto held up his camera and took a pair of photos with his brightest flash. If luck was with him, the light would startle his stalker into running away. 

It didn’t. 

“Son, you need to do something about that dog.” 

A middle-aged woman trundled up behind him to snort at his predicament. She was a writer for the Insomnia Herald, if he remembered right. Her voice sounded like someone trying to run gravel through a blender. 

“Do what?” Prompto gestured towards the large, sandy hound that was peering at him hopefully from on top of a large cooler. “He’s the Oracle’s dog. He has to have his own food. He probably has his own chef.”

“I don’t think it’s after that food.” Insomnia Herald rummaged in her coat pocket for a light. “If it wanted food, it wouldn’t have followed you around all day.”

“You noticed that?” Prompto winced. 

Insomnia Herald gave him a flat look, then blew smoke in his face. 

“Do something about the dog.” She repeated, before turning to walk away. “It’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird!” Prompto protested. 

But she was gone and also right. 

Prompto slung his camera over his shoulder and moved to crouch in front of the dog, so that he could look him in the eye. 

“You’re a dog,” he informed the dog. “So, you definitely don’t remember that one time we met. Right? That would be crazy.” 

The dog wagged his tail and panted. 

“Totally crazy, glad we’re agreed.” 

Prompto lowered his voice to a hiss. “Listen, I’m not here to start anything with Lady Lunafreya, all right? The treaty may be sealed now, but city border control is still locked up tight. You need a good excuse to leave. That’s the real reason half these journalists suddenly decided they cared about watching the Oracle wave at people, and it’s the reason I came too. And… “ 

He made a sweeping gesture. “And I am trying to play it cool, so knock it off!!” 

The dog took this as an invitation to lick a broad stripe up the centre of his palm. That was mostly no big, because Prompto was wearing fingerless gloves, but the dog’s tongue tickled his fingers and startled a laugh out of hiding. 

“What part of that was knocking it off!?” Prompto huffed. He definitely didn’t smile. All Smiles Prompto was for buzzing around Noctis, where being loud and silly couldn’t attract too much attention. 

The curve of his lips must have satisfied the dog, though, because he barked and then scampered off into the underbrush. 

 

***

 

Two hours later, dusk had well and truly fallen, and someone from Eos Associated Press set up a remote wi-fi server. Prompto wasn’t keen to check his messages but he was even less keen to go back to the tent he was sharing with another guy — Derek? Dino? — who kept trying to get him to look at bracelets for sone reason. Prompto had no idea if that was a come-on but he wasn’t going to take any chances. 

He wasn’t so pathetic that he’d try to fuck away his feelings about Noctis’ marriage the very first night after getting out of Insomnia. Especially not in Lady Lunafreya’s encampment. There was a word for that kind roleplaying and that word was holy shit what is wrong with you. 

Well, seven words. 

Whatever. 

So Prompto settled in by the media guys’ fire and pulled out his phone, trying to look like he was up to very important business. He didn’t have to try very hard, since immediately after connecting, he saw the angry white alert of a text from Ignus. 

 

_I do hope you’re proud of yourself._

 

Prompto considered ghosting Ignis for longer than he was proud of. 

 

_dude, what_

_Noctis is going out of his mind._

_???_

_You didn’t inform him that you planned to leave the city with the Princess’ entourage._

 

Prompto frowned. He shouldn’t be surprised that he’d been found out, but he thought he’d have at least a couple of days. 

 

_lmao_

_I wasn’t aware that I’d made a jest. Would you care to clarify?_

_r u kidding me???_

_he can’t seriously be jealous that i’m spending time w his girl_

_i got a job w meteor_

_crownsguard don’t even let us talk to her >_>;;; _

 

Well, okay. If Prompto styled his hair, threw on his black jacket, and introduced himself by name, then they probably would have let him talk to her. He wasn’t sure whether the Crownsguard were legitimately fooled by his sweet new look, or if they were ignoring his connection to the royal family because it was more convenient for everyone if he was an ordinary reporter. 

Maybe they were relieved that he remembered his place. 

 

_That’s not the issue._

_I understand if you’ve felt neglected, but you should have mentioned it._

_The reason I’m texting you instead of Gladiolus is that he may currently be incapable of communicating with you in words other than expletives._

 

Prompto glared at the words on the screen, his index finger poised for retaliation. 

Really? He should have said something? When should he had said something? When his poor Noctis was already tying himself in knots over his very public wedding ceremony? When Ignis and Gladiolus spent the two weeks of Noctis’ honeymoon setting up a household for the Prince’s return? 

He’s learned a long time ago that he had the ability to choose exactly who he wanted to be. It was the one superpower he gold to hold over his maddening, magical Prince. As a boy, he’d chosen to become Noctis’ supportive friend. Wasn’t that what he was being? A friend? Giving it space? The space that was necessary? And if he chose once more to shed his skin, to cast it off and begin again, then Ignis could— 

Prompto suddenly found himself with a lapful of happy, swarming dog. The dog whined and pushed a package of some kind into his shoulder. It looked like… a bag of chips? 

He flailed his way into typing a couple more lines in the text client. 

 

_sorry iggy gotta go_

_dog emergency you know how it is_

_I most certainly do not know “how it is”._

_Prompto? Are you still there?_

_Unbelievable._

 

“You’re a lifesaver, buddy.” Prompto let the phone drop to the ground, and scrambled for purchase in the dog’s thick fur. 

The dog nudged the packet against his mouth. Prompto took hold of the scruff of his neck with one hand, and grabbed the chip bag with the other, because if this went on any longer he might get a chip-bag-related cut on his face and wow would that be embarrassing. 

“Hey, I don’t really eat those anymore? But it’s good, we’re good. Good dog.” 

The dog let up enough for Prompto to stand. Which turned out to be a trap, because as soon as Prompto had his balance, the dog was attempting to drag him around by the shirt.

Prompto stumbled a few paces away from the media tents and was about to start giving the dog another talking-to when a pale figure emerged from the supply area. 

“Hello,” Lady Lunafreya said. “So this is where Pryna has been running off to.”

Pryna let Prompto go and trotted over to his mistress. She leaned down to scratch the dog's neck. 

Prompto didn't miss Lady Lunafreya's bodyguards hovering in the shadows. 

“Lady Lunafreya. I mean— Princess Lunafreya! Uh. Are these yours?” Prompto held Pryna’s present up, without thinking. “Please accept the return of these chips!!”

He then realized that they didn’t look at that appetizing. Who put a cartoon marlboro on on a bag of chips? That was off-putting even without the dog slobber. 

“That’s… not necessary,” Princess Lunafreya said. She paused the heavy pause of people who never expect to be interrupted, and then wrinkled her perfect button nose. 

“Pardon me, but have we met?”  

“I was at your wedding. I wouldn’t expect you to remember.” 

“I see. Thank you for your kind consideration,” Princess Lunafreya nodded, like Prompto wasn’t some rando commoner who’d stay five rows from the back. “Pryna likes to mother people. He picked it up when he was a puppy. I won’t pry into your situation, but if Pryna is trying to make you feel better about something, I recommend that you accept his efforts.”

Princess Lunafreya’s smile was as kind as it looked on television, as kind as he’d imagined it to be when he was a boy, and Prompto could hardly stand to look at it. 

She really was made for Noctis. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Prompto pasted on a smile. “And now I will go to the press gallery area, because that is where I, a member of the press gallery, have made camp.” 

“Oh… kay?” 

Pryna thankfully did not interfere when Prompto turned and fled. 

 

***

The next morning, Prompto woke up at the crack of dawn to go for his daily run. His working clothes were freezing cold and his back like it had been attacked with a rolling pin. Tiny little bugs swarmed outside his tent and the ground felt moody and gross when he stepped on it. He couldn’t imagine why he’d ever thought this was a good idea. 

Five minutes later, when he crashed through the bush to see a bright green horizon, he remembered why this was an amazing idea. The world was huge! There was so much to see and capture! No way could he have been satisfied after the small taste he got during the drive to Galdin Quay. Prompto was so pumped that he didn’t ever care when he was joined by that lunatic mutt. 

They stopped after a mile, at a small roadside clearing that looked out over rolling hills. Running on turf was a lot harder than running on paved road. Prompto took a swig of his water, then checked his waistband for the essentials — two guns, one phone. 

“What do you say? Think we should get a picture, buddy?”

Pryna barked and bounded up to him, which was when Prompto noticed the note tied to his neck. 

He eased the piece of paper out. It was written on thick white vellum, with calligraphy that looked like something out of a historical serial. It didn’t take Ignis Scientia to figure out who’d drafted it. 

_Good morning, Prompto Argentum. :)_

Oh, what the fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thnk you to everyone who's left kudos on this story! I'm very rusty as an author, and I know this isn't the most popular of romantic configurations, so I really appreciate your interest.


	3. Lunafreya

Today the ache started in Lunafreya’s right arm, creeping up from beneath her bicep to nestle in her elbow joint. When she stayed still, it was tolerable. When she moved it felt like she was grinding glass between her bones. 

All told, she’d had worse mornings. But she’d had much better ones too. 

Lunafreya discreetly braced her arm against Umbra as her car made its way down the highway. Her friend’s body cushioned her against any jarring movements, of which there were few. 

“Will we be required to take backroads to reach our destination?” Lunafreya inquired. 

“Not at all, Your Highness.” The Crownsguard who sat beside her driver craned his neck to look back at her. “The King’s highways reach all the main population centers in Lucis. You won’t have to worry about evacuating to Insomnia if anything happens.” 

That hadn’t been why she asked, but she saw no reason to correct him, so she nodded.

“I am pleased to hear it,” Lunafreya said.

In truth, Lunafreya was ashamed to admit that the roads in Lucis were more developed and better kept that she had expected. It was common knowledge in the Empire that the poor, neglected people of Lucis lived in a crumbling wasteland, abandoned by the decadent nobility that sequestered itself in the Crown City. She read Imperial propaganda with a critical eye, but it had been reasonable to think that there were a few truths scattered beneath the falsehood. 

Well, this was why her tour was so important. To see this country with her own eyes. To bring more cameras here. 

They drove on in silence until they reached a small rest area for weary drivers. Battered metal picnic tables had been festooned with ribbons and balloons, and excited locals clustered around the cordon established by the Crownsguard. There had to be no more than a hundred onlookers, supplemented by the press. 

Her driver opened the car door. 

“Your Highness!”

“Your Highness, welcome to Leide!!” 

Bulbs flashed. The crowd closed in. Lunafreya stepped outside and raised her right arm to wave. The pain crackled all the way up to her collarbone. 

***

Two hours later, the speech had been given and the healing was done. Someone had presented her with a fan made from the feathers of a chocobo that had won a prize at their regional fair. Lunafreya had to stick it in the cleavage of her dress to keep Umbra from using it as a chew-toy. 

Umbra pressed his cold nose between her breasts, undeterred. 

“Umbra, _no_.” Lunafreya buried her fingers in the dog’s thick fur, and hung her head, just for a moment, biting down on the urge to cry. 

The pain in her arm had gotten a little bit stronger. A little bit sharper. By taking away someone else’s affliction, she’d added a new shard to the whole. 

She was so distracted by the sensation that she hardly noticed Pryna jump into the footwell right before the Crownsguard closed the car door. He had ridden down in a van with that Argentum boy, and she had anticipated that he would stick with his latest project. It felt nice to know that he had still noticed her distress in a place where there were smells to smell and photographers to cuddle. Lunafreya might only have two friends in this world, but… they were very good ones. 

Pryna scrambled up into the seat and Lunafreya was forced back by a squirming tangle of dog. Claws scratched, tails batted, and Pryna came out of the scrum victorious, panting and arching his neck for her inspection. 

There was something tucked into his collar. A photograph printed upon glossy white stock. 

Lunafreya snatched it up and squinted down at the picture. It was not very good quality — long and rectangular, like a phone screen, and the colors had too-sharp edges — but the scene depicted made up for it. Pryna chasing through the long grass at sunrise, slobbering joyfully in pursuit of some odd, blurry insect. 

She’d never seen him in the wild, before. Her darling, beautiful pup. 

Lunafreya turned the paper over, and saw a word scrawled in thick black marker. 

_HI_

In spite of herself, Lunafreya smiled. 

*** 

The afternoon brought a second performance, this time at a Coernix Station. The Crownsguard were upset about the addition to their itinerary but Lunafreya had to insist. Spontaneous visits looked less produced than official visits and thus came off better on film. 

Besides, she had a point to prove to… someone. Anyone. Herself? After an intensely annoying exchange with Ravus over lunch. No matter how hard she tried, she was never quite able to impress upon him the importance of her work. 

_Yes, yes, I understand, the Lucian farmers pawed at you in a most satisfactory manner. Your journey sounds wonderfully quaint._

Hah. As though she didn’t know what he meant by quaint! 

_Honestly, Ravus, must you be this way even now that the wedding is over?_

_I am afraid I must, dear sister. You shall have to return home to correct me and take a week at the spa._

_Not likely._

The pain stretched up into Lunafreya's shoulder, now, and it made her so out-of-sorts. Not-bloody-likely indeed! He never listened, not ever, not even when he should be happy for her, and — oh, she shouldn’t think such spiteful thoughts about her brother, who was only trying to protect her. 

She would be productive and hold a spiteful photo-op instead. 

Lunafreya poured out of the car, her hounds padding after her. She walked into the convenience store with graceful, measured steps that were in no way an angry stomp. The media scuttled in after her to take incredibly fascinating photographs of Oracle picking up a sugar-free energy drink and being One Of The People. The girl at the counter looked as though she was going to faint but she would just have to cope. 

This. Was. For. World. Peace. 

Pryna butted his head against the back of her knee, and Lunafreya took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself before she did something regrettable in front of half a dozen reporters. Perhaps the Crownsguard had a point about this being a rash idea. 

She looked around for Argentum, hoping to distract herself with the memory of Pryna’s morning run, and caught him coming through the door. His eyes immediately flickered to the corners of the ceiling, one-two-three-four, looking for cameras. It was exactly what Lunafreya had done when she had walked into the room.

It was an odd reflex, on a Lucian. Not that she was an expert on Lucian behaviour at this juncture. 

“Please, would one of you mind giving me a recommendation?” Lunafreya raised her voice to address the crowd of reporters. She clapped her hands together, to soften the bright edge in her tone. “Any favourite childhood snacks? I fear that I was never educated in Lucian junkfood.” 

Honestly, all of this plastic packaging looked the same to her. But her inner Ravus was sneering, _quaint_ , which made her genuinely want to try some, instead of merely feigning interest for the cameras. 

Silence settled over the group, as though Lunafreya had broken some great taboo. Which, of course, she had. She wasn’t supposed to goad the press by prodding at the invisible wall between them. It was not a healthy way to vent her feelings. 

The girl at the counter could have easily have solved this impasse if she’d had the courage to speak up. Unfortunately, she was busy turning white as a sheet. 

“None?” She turned to look pointedly down at a display of… food products. “Never mind, then, I’ll—“

“I can probably help you out.” 

Lunafreya’s head whipped back up.

It was Argentum. 

“You… can?” 

“Well, sure.” He looked abashed, as though only now realizing the significance of his actions. The entire room was staring. “I mean, uh, not that I eat lots of that stuff now, but oh man — if you’re into spicy then the curry chocobo ripple-chips are amazing. They’re so salt, but with, like, a sweet finish? I think they might smoke them. I mean, I hope they smoke them. Ignis would kill me if I told you to eat something using chemical smoke.” 

“I see,” Lunafreya said, feeling a little lost.

A person was having a conversation with her... about chips… at a service station? Oh dear. She supposed she’d asked for this, but she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. 

Her inquiries last night had revealed that fully half of the people in this room knew who Prompto Argentum was, and were likely waiting for some sort of grand drama to erupt between them. She couldn’t blame them. She might have assumed that he and Noctis were former lovers, had Noctis not been so sweet and awkward during their first night together. Noctis was unusually guarded about their relationship and Argentum was plainly having some sort of personal crisis. Pryna had good instincts about these things. 

Under the circumstances, Lunafreya really ought to push Argentum away so that he could keep the low profile he so obviously craved. But she was not entirely unselfish. And in that moment, she felt as though she understood her husband better than she had before. 

“I don’t know if I’ll like them,” she repeated, more firmly. “But, I’d like to try.” 

Lunafreya held out her left hand and Argentum passed a bag of chips to her. It did not have a malboro on it, thank the Gods. 

She grabbed a second bag and brushed by him on the way to the cash register. 

“If you enjoy these, you should have some too.” 

“Whoa, whoa, wait, haha, I don’t think I need those calories, Your Highness.”

“Are you suggesting _I_ don’t need those calories?” 

“I— what?? No!” 

Lunafreya had little practice making human friends, but she had resolved to start. Noctis could surely give her some assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually the second version of this chapter, which is why it took so long to post such a short scene. I scrapped the first version because I didn't care for how Lunafreya's voice turned out. I'm trying to give her a little more depth than I perceived when I played the same, and I'd love any feedback you may have!
> 
> I find the technological situation in FFXV pretty confusing. They have smartphone gaming apps, but the internet does not seem to be much of a thing, and you still have to personally deliver photos during the Meteor sidequests. I decided to resolve this by assuming that bandwidth outside of Insomnia is really terrible. Like, 1980s dial-up terrible. All of these reporters have to print out their pictures and courier them home, which is why Prompto has a printer with him for doggie pics.


	4. Noctis II

Noctis sat at the table on his balcony and nursed a glass of bourbon. He’d never had a taste for hard liquor, but the bottle was a wedding gift from his household staff, and he felt like he should use it. This was a new phase of his life. It was time to try new things. He could be the kind of prince who poured himself a drink and watched the sun set over his city while he reviewed civic planning documents. 

He could be an _adult_ , if he tried hard enough and set himself some goals. 

So Noctis read a paragraph. Glanced at his phone. Read two more paragraphs. Made a small note in pencil. Glanced at his phone. Took another sip of his drink. Glanced at his phone. 

The phone lit up. 

Noctis nearly knocked his paperwork over the railing in his eagerness to check what was up. Prompto? Luna? Gladio wanting to spar? Cor calling a meeting to silently judge his choices? Noctis would take pretty much anything at this point. 

Sadly, what he got was a mass text from Ignis — I HAVE INVENTED A NEW RECIPE — coupled with a gif of a moogle in a chef’s hat. Gladio never should have let Iris introduce him to memes. 

Noctis briefly considered texting back to say he’d like to try it, then thought better of it. Ignis and Gladio had both taken time that morning to bust his chops over letting the Prompto situation get out of hand. He was going to have to earn his way back onto Ignis’ shortlist of taste-testers.

He set his phone back down returned to staring blankly at his paperwork. 

Ugh, this was dumb. Noctis wasn’t actually that bad at administrative stuff. At least, he didn’t think so. The problem was that it was too quiet to work here without Luna coddling her dogs in the background. 

It reminded him of why he’d moved out to go to school. In the city there’d been street noise, and the downstairs neighbours fighting, and best of all Prompto, who was a soundtrack all by himself — humming nonsense songs while he abused Noctis’ kitchen to make horrifying vegetable smoothies. 

In the palace there had only been the absence of his father. 

Now, he got to add in the absence of his best friend and his wife. 

Noctis drained the rest of his bourbon and let the burn help him pull himself together. Paragraphs melted into pages and minutes melted into hours. He was progressing at a good clip when his phone lit up again. 

Ow, too bright. Had he really been reading in this dim? Noctis blinked away the glare and swiped to answer his call. 

“Hello?” 

Static cracked over the speaker, then resolved into a greeting. 

“Hello.”

“Luna!!” Noctis clutched his phone tighter, grinning. “It’s good to hear your voice.” 

“It’s good to hear your voice as well, my Prince.” 

“Lu _naaa_ ,” Noctis groaned.

“You are mine, aren’t you? You didn’t lose the ring?”

“Of course not,” Noctis flushed. “What kind of question is that?”

“One that you know the right answer to,” Luna said. 

It was true. He did. But Luna sounded tired underneath the teasing, and Noctis found himself paralyzed with indecision. Should he banter back? Or should he ask if she was okay? In a way, things had been easier when they only spoke in letters. Everything Noctis said could be considered and re-considered in order to make her happy.

Noctis watched small, dark figures gather at the edge of the back gardens. He bet none of those people were this bad at phone calls. 

“It’s— it’s strange, isn’t it?” Luna plowed on through the silence. “Being able to speak over the phone.”

“Yeah, it is.” 

“A good strange! Not a bad strange.” 

“Absolutely.” 

Oh, great job, Noctis. Now the conversation was lagging again. He could hear Luna breathing against her phone headset. Was it weird to leave your phone on to enjoy a comfortable silence with your wife? Was that a thing people did? Noctis was glad that Cor’s security officers didn’t monitor private royal lines. 

“So…” 

“Yes?”

The ‘so’ had to be going somewhere. Please, please let it be going somewhere. 

“… are you going to tell me why you didn’t mention that your friend would be joining my press gallery?”

Correction: please, please let it be going somewhere that didn’t make him look like an idiot. 

“I didn’t know?” Noctis slumped in his chair. “Honestly, I didn’t. It’s a long story and I think I might know three chapters of it, tops.”

“Oh? Hm.” Thankfully, Luna didn’t seem to feel like pressing him. “We went to a gas station. He told me to buy chips. It might be in the paper.” 

Wait, what? 

“What.”

“The Insomnia Herald, to be precise. Or one of a few other publications. The Herald reporter was the only one I recognized.”

“I see?”

Except he didn’t.

That must have come through in his tone, because Luna started explaining about what had happened. A stunt pushing her familiarity with the press corps, a question she didn’t expect to be answered, and Prompto Argentum, who couldn’t hold back when he saw a lonely boy or a wounded animal. 

“— all of which is to say, your friend is very brave.” 

“I know, right?” Noctis said, fondly. “He does this stuff like it’s nothing. I think he thinks it’s _actually_ nothing.” 

“I thought you might have told him to do it. I’m sure he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.” 

“Nah. He’s just weird. Hates the spotlight. You’d think the last thing he’d want is to be friends with someone like me, but I guess he’s got a thing for rescuing princes.” 

The little figures at the edge of the park looked like they were doing some kind of dance. Was this a social meme, like that flash mob thing Prompto had tried to explain to him? Was an outdoor dance party even legal at this time of night? Noctis couldn’t even imagine having that many friends. He barely handled three as it was. 

And normally, Noctis would have shut up by now, but he wanted to hold onto that fond feeling a little while longer. 

“You know— this one time, in high school, he invited me to go to a public movie theatre?”

“No!” Luna gasped. 

“Yes! I told him we could have the new release delivered to the palace theatre, but he insisted. Something about ‘real popcorn’, I don’t know. Anyway—“ the story went on for a good three minutes “—and at the end he started singing this weird chocobo jingle of nowhere, oh my god.“

Noctis heard crackling over the phone line. He assumed that was Luna holding back a chuckle. 

“He gave me a picture of Pryna in wheat field. It is completely precious.” Luna paused a tick. “Should I find him a chocobo video? Do you think that would help break the ice?” 

“Probably?“ Noctis cleared his throat. “Say. When Prompto, uh, showed you that picture. Did he say anything about me?”

“Such as?”

“Just… whatever.” 

“Would you like for him to have said something about you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Noctis said, hurriedly. 

“You’re jealous of my Pryna picture,” Luna decreed. 

“Are you kidding me?“ Gods help him, he absolutely was. “I have a million pictures from Prompto. If I could pay people in Prompto selfies, I’d halve the royal budget. Don’t worry about it.” 

“I’ll have him send you one too. “ Luna ignored Noctis. “It will be fun.” 

“I don’t know if he— ugh, hold on a sec.” 

Noctis pulled his phone way from his face and squinted into the night. It was hard to see among the trees, but that little crowd of people looked like they were holding up a… sign?

He opened up his camera app and used the zoom function to get a better look. There was definitely a sign. The words were nearly illegible, but Noctis knew the shape of them all too well. 

_king of kings  
deliver us to dawn_

Noctis brought the phone back up to his ear. 

“Noctis? Do you need to go?”

His gut clenched, and he rose to stand at the balcony railing. He should call Cor. This wasn’t meant to happen in a public park. They must have sympathizers in the guard. 

“It’s those fucking cultists again,” Noctis ground out. “I thought they’d clear off when our wedding didn’t end the world.” 

“They’re not cultists, Noctis. They’re merely a little overenthusiastic about our marriage.”

“I don’t like it.” And he didn’t like the way Luna dodged the issue, either. “You didn’t see anyone like that at your event today, did you?”

Luna didn’t answer. 

“Luna.”

“I’m the Oracle, Noctis,” Luna said. And just like that, his wife was replaced with the diplomat he saw on the newscasts. Tepid and reasonable. “Cosmogenists are commonplace at my events.”

Noctis wasn’t having it. 

“They aren’t ordinary Cosmogenists,” he pressed. 

“What do you want me to say, Noctis? Chancellor Izunia only allowed us to marry because of pressure from these groups to unite the houses of Caelum and Fleuret. His aim was to pacify the occupied cities in Accordo and Tenebrae. In order to keep the peace, we play our parts.” 

“Luna… please.” Noctis ventured, softly. 

It wasn’t much, but it brought his wife back. 

“It might be selfish of me, but I don’t care, do you understand?” Luna exhaled. “I don’t _care_ if a handful of fringe Cosmogenists are dangerous. If the King and the Oracle work together, we can make the world better. We can bear our burdens together. That’s what we always promised one another.”

“I know.” Noctis said, because it was true. He’d known it since he was eight and she was twelve, beautiful and unstoppable. “I know. Just… be careful, okay?” 

“You need a good night’s sleep, my Prince.”

“Love you too.” 

Noctis ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket. 

***

Noctis should have gone to bed after that. Instead, he shrugged off his suit jacket and poured himself a second glass of bourbon. Two became three, and three become four, and before he knew it, he was full of all the boldness that a ninety credits worth of alcohol could buy. 

Those crazy assholes were still standing out there, waiting for him to pay attention to them. And _he was_. Game over, battle lost, pour one out for the sorriest prince in Eos. 

If Gladio were here, he would tell Noctis to call Cor and get the Kingsglaive to clear these people out. 

It was a good thing that Gladio was probably off getting supermodels to buy him drinks at a club Noctis had never heard of. 

Noctis tossed his bourbon glass aside, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and summoned his shortsword. Then he clamoured up to crouch on the balcony railing. The night air was chill and he was very high up. This was dangerous… possibly? But not! Noctis was descended from the great Ninja King who had defended Lucis with her eight-point throwing star, he absolutely had this. 

Noctis leapt off the balcony and felt gravity take him, crushing him down to the concrete below, a tense and aching moment before he—

Warped. 

It was a strange sensation, being and not-being at the same time. He was the Crystal, which was everything and everywhere, until he was no longer the Crystal, and happened to be standing somewhere completely different than where he was before. Dad said not to think too much about it. That was probably sound advice. 

The warp crashed Noctis into a tree a few yards away from his fan club, his sword biting deep into the wood. His training held well enough that he kept the pommel of his weapon in hand through impact. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the birds that had been nesting in the tree from freaking out, or a bunch of splinters from exploding everywhere. 

The cultists scattered and ran, leaving Noctis red-faced and hanging. 

“Fuck.”

He dropped to the ground gracelessly, falling to his knees with a grunt. They’d left the damn sign along with a bunch of empty soda cans and the smell of cheap incense. 

_king of kings_  
deliver us to dawn  
let your bride summon destruction  
invite the new day 

Noctis fumbled for a flask of firaga and, failing that, gave the banner a good hard kick. 

“Fuck!!” 

This was bullshit. Everything was bullshit. Being _alone_ was _bullshit_. 

Ever since Gladio had called him out for not giving Prompto a place in his household, he’d been trying and _trying_ to think of a way around it. Prompto wouldn’t want some fake job and his skills didn’t really run towards government. And honestly, Noctis didn’t want Prompto working for him. He already had that with Ignis and Gladio and literally every other friend he met ever. 

If only there was some kind of official best-friend title. Noctis had to deal with so many stupid traditions in his day-to-day life, you’d think the kings of old would have started at least one or two useful ones. 

Noctis yanked his phone out of his pocket and jammed his index finger onto speed-dial number one. 

His wedding ring flashed in the streetlights. 

“Prom?” 

“Hi! You—“

“Prom, thank god.” 

“— have reached Prompto Argentum!! You know what to do. Beeeeeep!!”

FUCK. 

“Hey. It’s me, Noctis, if you didn’t know.” 

He bet that Prompto was meeting dozens of interesting people out there beyond the walls. He could forget all about Noctis and improve his life by nine thousand percent. 

Noctis was like Luna, though. In this one small way, he was selfish as fuck. 

“Take care of yourself, and Luna too. Watch out for anyone weirder than you are.”

And he’d better not fucking dare forget about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's the point of getting married if you can't gush with your spouse about that cute boy you like?


	5. Prompto II

Prompto lay on his belly in the tall grass behind Lady Lunafreya’s podium. The spot was damp, itchy, and riddled with buzzy little bugs, but it at least no one was there to distract him while he messed with his equipment. He fussed with his lens for a good two minutes before finding the perfect balance between Lady Lunafreya’s crisp white dress and her soft peach skin. 

Not that he was being a creeper!! Wow, holy shit, not even close. Not even in the same country. So far away that the idea might as well be sitting in a cafe in Altissia, trying not to overthink its life choices while its best friend posed for commemorative wedding china. 

Sure, the Crownsguard _probably_ didn’t know he’d slipped out of the scrum to hide here, and also, this angle emphasized the curve of Lady Lunafreya’s butt? Like, a lot?? Enough that Prompto was having some uncomfortable revelations about pervs who posted on upskirt forums??? But Lady Lunafreya’s hemline was very modest and there was a totally not sketchy explanation for everything he was doing. 

Namely, that it was incredibly difficult to get an interesting picture of the Oracle. 

You could get a nice picture of the Oracle very easily. Lady Lunafreya was photogenic and obviously used to putting her best face forward for the camera. Her arms stayed open and welcoming, her hands moved fluidly, her smile showed exactly the right amount of teeth. You’d have to be a real hack to mess that up. Anyone ought to be able to take a decent photo of a beautiful princess. 

Unfortunately, that was… kind of the problem? Eight dudes were parked in front of Lady Lunafreya right now, taking pictures of her speech. They’d get the color of her lipstick and a flash of sun behind her. Eight nearly identical images, bland and boring.

The people who subscribed to Meteor Geographic should have better than that. Real photography. Which raised the question of why Vyv had hired Prompto, but he was too grateful for the job to care. 

Couldn’t hurt to try something different, right? 

One of the little fly things landed on Prompto’s nose. He blew it away and re-focussed on taking some shots. 

Lady Lunafreya’s back, squared and steady, in the foreground of a mob of worshippers and well-wishers. A stern black dog curled around the backs of her legs and staring straight into he camera. A woman crying and holding up a sign asking for the Oracle to call down blessings. A teenager with crossed arms wearing a tee-shirt with some blasphemous catchphrase dedicated to Ifrit. The arc of Lady Lunafreya’s arm against the clouds. A redhead in the press area who looked genuinely touched, surrounded by bored old pros pecking at their phones. 

If Prompto could stand up without being noticed, then maybe he could get a picture of Lady Lunafreya looming over the awestruck children that clustered in front of her makeshift stage. Cheesy as hell but effective, right? Hope and the future, all in one frame. Vyv should eat it up. 

Prompto let his camera hang around his neck and began to push himself up. It was a good plan, right up until seventy pounds of dead weight flopped right onto his back. 

Prompto would have gone for his guns if his hands were free. Fortunately, they weren’t, because the first things he registered after getting the breath knocked out of him were loud panting and the increasingly familiar smell of mutton breath. 

“Oh, come on, dude! I am trying to keep cover here.” 

The beige dog licked his ear and snuggled happily in place. 

“No. No!” Prompto hissed. “This is not nap-time Prompto. There is no nap-time Prompto!!” 

God, where was Noct when you needed someone to fall asleep with a dog in a weird place? 

Running the free world, probably. 

Or leaving voice messages on Prompto’s phone that he hadn’t checked because he was a busy guy with little privacy, yeah, that was absolutely the reason, haha no chickenshits here no way no how, shut the fuck up Inner Gladio. 

Prompto watched uselessly as Lady Lunafreya finished her speech. She beckoned a little old lady up from the crowd and performed a laying-on of hands, drawing out whatever spiritual poison caused the woman’s hands to shake when when she raised her cane. She stepped back a little when she as done — wilting, maybe? — but recovered her posture when the black dog nuzzle against her calves. 

Prompto wished he’d gotten a photo of that. It looked real, unlike basically everything else about how she conducted this dog and pony show. It force Prompto to think of Lady Lunafreya as a real person and not, like, this abstract concept of Noctis’ Guardian Astral or whatever. 

But he hadn’t gotten a photo, and Lady Lunafreya’s admirers were being dispersed by the Crownsguard. 

“Okay bud, show’s over, you gotta let me up.” Prompto butted his forehead against the dog’s ear, because lying in the dirt and talking to dogs was his life now, wow, awesome. 

The dog whined high in his throat and beat his tail against Prompto’s thighs. 

“No seriously, let’s move.” 

Prompto would have had more to say, except the Crownsguard was heading his way to escort Lady Lunafreya out, and he absolutely could not be seen by them in this compromising position. The dog was sort of dry-grass coloured so he would be okay, maybe? Except long-buried instincts were screaming at him to be quiet, be silent, be efficient, do whatever it took to silence the damn mutt so that no one would find him, no one would drag him back. He was hyper-aware of the guards’ field of vision, the soft flesh of their throats, the sound of boots on loam. 

Prompto counted backwards from ten — nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one — and forced it all down. Eventually the guards dispersed and the dog rolled off of him. 

He barely had time to notice the nchocobo-feather thingamabob tucked in the dog’s collar, before it padded off after its mistress. 

*** 

Late afternoon found Prompto sitting by a makeshift campfire and thumbing through the photos on his camera screen, selecting only the best to print off and courier to Vyv. It was harder than he’d thought it would be. Maybe the hardest in his day. Pointing and shooting? Yeah, he could get into that, he could be so absorbed in making it work that he forgot to worry. But picking proofs required good taste, and Prompto wasn’t sure he had enough of it. 

A StellarGram account and a few college credits in photography were not the same thing as real qualifications. 

Prompto considered a picture of Lady Lunafreya facing both the crowd and the sun, her back cast in shadow because she was haloed in golden light. It was gorgeous. Not to brag or anything, but really, _it was_. Only Prompto found himself disappointed by it. It was a picture of a priestess, a princess, a goddess. And if that nerd Noctis loved Lunafreya as much as he seemed to, then she definitely couldn’t be that. Prompto had got the frame all wrong. 

Prompto scrolled to his other frontrunners and grew more and more disappointed. Princess, princess, princess. Could he really call himself a photographer if he failed this much? 

He was startled from his reverie, _yet again_ , but the approach of a big drooling bundle of trouble. 

“Don’t you give me that face,” Prompto looked up from his camera to warn the dog. “You are in big trouble, mister.” 

The dog trotted up to his side. The feather thing was still there, this time accompanied by a blindingly red slip of paper. Prompto resigned himself to retrieving it. 

_HIS NAME IS PRYNA_ , the paper said. _HE BROUGHT YOU A PRESENT_. 

A thick arrow drawn on the paper pointed to the feathery doodad. 

Great, the woman Prompto was stalking now thought he was an idiot. 

He worked the feather-ma-whatsis out from the Pryna’s collar and saw that it was an old-fashioned fan, stiff white feathers found together by wooden sticks and catsgut. He immediately ysnapped it open and started fanning himself. 

“Okay. You can stay, but only because you bribed me, got it?” He flicked the fan to point at Pryna. 

Pryna tilted his head at Prompto and stared like he expected something. 

Dammit, did the dog expect something? Was this a thing he was doing with the Lady Lunafreya now? Dog pen-pals? His brain veered away from the natural association with Noctis and crashed headlong into worry over what picture he could send her. The morning’s photo session did _not_ need to become her business until it was published in a glossy magazine that put his actions in context. 

After a few (many) furtive moments of trying not to flip out, he trotted off to his tent and printed a photo of the joke selfie he’d took that morning, flexing in his workout clothes. This was the worst day of Prompto’s life except for the day when Noctis has called him fat, and basically all of the days he’d spent in a government laboratory, and the time he’d spent lurking in a freight car, and the time he’d hard to force his signature to fake have parents of the school field trip and okay this wasn’t even close to the worst day of his life but it still sucked. 

HIS NAME IS TINY, WHAT IS A PRYNA he wrote on the back. 

Probably not his best move but maybe a shitty comment could distract from what a lame photo this was. 

When the transaction was complete, he left the tent and the dog behind, only to run into Insomnia Herald burning some papers in the campfire. Weird. 

“What did I say about that dog?” She asked him, apropos of nothing, before he could ask her what the hell she was doing. 

Prompto fluttered his fan indignantly. Wow, this thing was more useful that it looked. 

“I can’t control him, he’s a dog.” 

The woman gave him a flat look. Prompto would have been more offended, but he figured it was part of her aesthetic. No-nonsense khakis, professional blouse, glare like a cranky coeurl. 

“Listen, son, I am a goddamn saint, so I’ll give you some free advice just this once. All of us who gave a shit about you and the Prince in high-school, but there was a Palace embargo on reporting it when he was a minor. That’s gone now. So you need to choose whether you’re going to be media, and report on the story, or whether you’re going to be part of it. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll choose the first one.” 

Prompto noticed her finish feeding her documents to the flames, because he sort of noticed everything? All the time? Like, it was a serious problem for him? But he was too bothered to care. 

The idea that Insomnia’s reporters had been in his business for years sort of made him want to puke. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You heard me.” Her gaze flickered over to his phone, which was still sitting with his stuff on his camp chair. The message light was flashing on and off. “And be a professional, answer your fucking voicemail.” 

“Who the hell are you??” Prompto fumed. 

“Evadne Sol.” 

With that, the four-time winner of the Calliope Award for Excellence in Investigative Journalism sailed away from Prompto and towards her own tent, where she may or may not blacklist him for running his mouth. 

Prompto moved to trail after her but was intercepted by the redheaded dude who had almost cried during Lunafreya’s speech. He wore a cheek-cracking smile and a big pendant bearing the symbol of Lost Shiva. 

“Friend!” He threw an arm across Prompto’s shoulder. It would be the work of a moment to shoot him in his soft, unprotected belly. Prompto kept himself from flipping out by cringing into the gesture. “I find you at last! Your bravery in speaking to Her Holiness the other day was truly inspiring. I heard about it second hand, as did many of our colleagues. You must tell us everything you know about Her words to you!!” 

And there went Prompto’s evening, felled with a vengeance. 

***

The stars were out by the time Prompto escaped the clutches of the press gallery drinking game and found solitude in the bushes. He needed to pee, he’d told them, and that’d been true, but not totally. Mediocre times with these press guys reminded him of better ones with his best friend, and Inner Gladio was becoming impatient with him. 

Prompto finished relieving himself against a tree, used some hand sanitizer, and then opened up his voicemail. He wasn’t too worried about being attacked by demons. He was close enough to a deposit of thunder elemancy ore that he was cast in a pool of half-light. 

He typed in his password and then heard a voice. 

“Hey. It’s me, Noctis, if you didn’t know.” 

As though Prompto would ever _not_ know. Noctis sounded like he was ready to take on a Nif regiment with some chopsticks and an astrolabe, one big belligerent puddle of prince, and that tone was so classic Drunk Noctis that Prompto felt moisture sting at the corner of his eyes. In better days they would have ridden this out in Noctis' apartment by bitching about responsibilities and roughhousing on the couch. Noctis was strangely energized by alcohol for such a drowsy guy. 

“Take care of yourself, and Luna too. Watch out for anyone weirder than you are.”

Prompto blinked the stinging away, an unaccountable anger rising up in his belly. 

He should be happy that Noctis was thinking of him in the same breath that he thought of his wife. He _should_ be happy to hear from Noctis at all. Only, Noctis hadn’t talked to him for weeks, and now this was all he got? Take care of himself? Take care of Lady Lunafreya? What even was that? Because it sounded a hell of a lot like a goodbye.

How dare Noctis. Prompto almost didn’t know how to be pissed off with his best friend, but he’d been trying to make this parting easy on everyone, and now to hear it in that stupid, sleepy, stumbling voice that made Prompto want to curl up beneath the covers and purr and… and… fuck him! What the fuck was wrong with him!! 

“Pal, get your ass back here!” Dino called out from the campsite. “Or we’re going to worry a Tonberry has got you by the dick, ya dig?” 

Prompto pressed seven to delete the message, and went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you all with a set-up chapter, but I'm off on vacation for a week, so I'm afraid the next update won't be until February. 
> 
> I can't believe I'm surpassed 150 kudos with this story. Thanks to everyone who's let me know they're reading!


End file.
